


When in London

by detective_terrible_detective



Series: Tales from Camelot and beyond [6]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: 1940s, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Cloud Watching, F/F, F/M, Flirting, London, Trains, Uther's bad parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 10:57:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17723891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/detective_terrible_detective/pseuds/detective_terrible_detective
Summary: London is exciting, full of new people to meet and places to go. Best of all, Nim's there, too.Or, Morgana and Nimueh stay in London, and what happens there.





	When in London

High above the two of them, wisps of clouds dance above them, twining together and pulling away again. When she had been a child, she and Gwen used to watch the clouds for hours at a time, telling each other all the shapes they saw; galloping horses, soaring buildings, magnificent ships sailing across the horizon. She didn’t see shapes anymore, only clouds.

“What are you thinking about?” If it had been someone else, Morgana might have said that their voice had shattered her peace. Not with Nim. Never with her. “Morgan?”

Morgana turned to face the woman lying next to her, wrinkling her face in distaste as blades of grass tickled her cheek. “Nothing, really. Just about the shapes I used to see as a child.” Nim laughed, and, again, if it had been anybody else, Morgana would have bristled at them laughing at her. Instead, she just smiled, and laughed along with her, rolling back to face the sky.

“The way you talk makes it sound so long ago.”

“Makes what sound so long ago?”

“Your childhood.” She huffed out a small laugh at that. Uther—she never thought of him as Father, not anymore—hadn’t been the type of parent who encouraged childish games and fancies. Only when he was away on one of his trips had she been a child. Mother never minded when she came to the dinner table chattering about the fairies who lived down by the stream. Arthur had laughed, but he laughed at everything she said.

Nim seemed to sense that she wasn’t inclined to answer and didn’t press any further. Instead, she raised an arm and began to tell Morgana about all the shapes she saw.

~

“You’re sure your aunt is expecting us?”

Nim laughed, covering her neatly lipsticked mouth with a gloved hand. “That’s the third time you’ve asked me. Yes, she is. Her letter said she would send someone to meet us at the station.”

She worried the edge of her skirt between her fingers, catching on a stray thread and tugging it. “I just want to be sure,” she muttered, tugging harder, and feeling the thread give way slightly. Nim tugged her hand away, trapping it between her own.

“Do you want to unravel your skirt?” She scolded. “Besides, what has you so worried? It’s not like you to mind what people think.”

Morgana shrugged, turning away from her and staring out the window instead. “It’s your family. I want them to like me.” There was silence following this admission, and she spun back to face Nim, shifting uncomfortably under the searching look she was giving.

“Oh, Morgan.” A hurried glance around the compartment revealed that the only other traveler—an elderly gentleman—was thoroughly engrossed in his newspaper. Darting forward to plant a kiss on Morgana’s hand she still held trapped, she gave a crooked grin most inappropriate for a nice young lady. “She doesn’t even like _me_ that much.”

~

London was like nothing she’d ever known. Dances, luncheons, concerts, walks in the parks, all of them done with a handsome young man hanging off her elbow, Nim just steps away, with her own young gentleman. They shared the look that every young woman knows, which never fails to make the young male gentleman feel as though he is being laughed at in some mysterious feminine way. All is forgotten, however, when she turns back to him and smiles, all red lipstick and white teeth.

London was bright, London was fun. London was full of men and music. London was full of Nim. Her aunt’s house was full of corners, and empty rooms where the servants never go. They spent their days together, and ended them in the same room, talking and kissing long into the night.

London was when Morgana first thought she might be in love with Nim.

~

Their time in London came to an end after a particularly late night, the two young men who escorted them home laughing and flirting, she and Nim giggling and smiling coquettishly. It took them five minutes to walk up the front path alone. After blowing James and David kisses, and promising to save them a dance, they pushed the front door open, not bothering to be quiet. Their heels clicked against the wooden floor, and their voices carried all the way to the fourth-floor attic.

“Nimueh.” Nim’s aunt stood silhouetted in the drawing-room doorway, the warm glow of lamplight streaming all around her. “Come here.” And with that ominous statement uttered, she turned and reenters the room.

She and Nim exchanged an apprehensive glance, but, with the glow of a night out dancing still hovering around them, they followed the old lady.

When all were seated in the rather uncomfortable but wonderfully stylish armchairs, Nim’s aunt began to speak. “Nimueh. You and your…friend,” a glance down her nose at Morgana revealed just how much she thought of Nim’s friends, “are behaving disgracefully. Out at all hours, bringing gentlemen home, heaven knows what you do at all those _parties_.” She spat the last word, as though _party_ was the worst insult she could think of. “I want you out of this house.”

Nim started. “What?” She blurted, for once caught off guard.

“I want you to go. To leave. And never come back.” Her aunt had stood up, her voice rising steadily, along with the blotchy flush on her neck.

“Fine.” In contrast, Nim’s tone was quiet, but two bright spots of anger burned on her cheeks, even brighter than the rouge she had put on earlier. “We’ll leave tomorrow morning, if that suits you?”

“The sooner the better.”

~

The train ride home was no less lively than the one before it. They spent their time flirting with the porters, and scandalizing the old woman in their compartment, after Nim, under the pretence of losing her balance at the train turning a corner, landed in her son’s lap, who simply gave her a charming smile and a wink.

For a while, they muttered about how horrific Nim’s aunt was, and how unfair it was that she had made them leave. At the station, they stood hand in hand until Arthur arrived with the car. And if Nim had her head nestled against Morgana’s neck, and if Morgana interlocked their fingers, well, that was no one’s business but their own.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, it's been, what? Two months since I last added to this? I'm sorry. I tried, but nothing really worked. But I managed to get my crap together, and here's the result!   
> I knew that Morgana and Nim were together from the start, and I've tried to leave little hints, but I don't know if anyone picked up on it.  
> Aside from being the obvious shortening of Morgana, in certain retellings, Morgan was her name. I thought it appropriate that Nim would call her that.  
> As always, let me know what you thought in the comments!


End file.
